Hero
by hplvrgurl132
Summary: Hermione is at Harry's funeral. No one understands what he went through, and she needs to make them understand.


The organ music began to play. It was a sad, slow tune. One would think that at the celebration of his life, they might play something a bit happier. That's what they kept calling it; the _celebration_ of Harry Potter's life.

But it wasn't a celebration to me; to his best friend. I wasn't happy about the life he had lived. I wanted him there with me. I needed him to not be in that marble tomb next to Dumbledore's tomb, a bouquet of flowers perched atop it as if it was just a table and not the remains of by best friend.

Lots of people were there. There were people who were close, people who were well acquainted, people who had met him once or twice, and people who had never even seen him before, but knew what he had done. They all knew he had died to vanquish Lord Voldemort.

They thanked him in their prayers, but they never knew all he had sacrificed. They never knew he suffered months of mental torture at the hands of the most skilled Legilimens in the wizarding world. They didn't bother to find out that he had willingly endured the Crutiatus Curse for an hour just so he could get to a horcrux.

No, these were the nightmares that only Ron and I would have to live with from now on. These ignorant people would never know.

The priest called my name, but it sounded distant. I realized that it was time for the eulogy, and I was the one who would present it to the wizarding community.

I managed to rise from my seat and walk up to the podium. I looked out at all of the faces. Some were crying and some were stony faced, as if they were void of any way to express their grief.

"Good morning, ladies and gentleman, wizards and witches alike. Today, the word "hero" is often thrown around carelessly for someone who has done something worth admiration. Performing well in a Quidditch match," Ron smiled, "scoring a one hundred and twelve percent on an exam," Professor McGonagall let out a little chuckle, "but what we must all realize is the real heroes of our society are not the ones who manage to do something particularly well, but the ones who behave admirably and ethically in every situation that they are faced with. Harry Potter was a real hero. He personified the word in every definition and every connotation there is. That is because he cared. He cared about every one of you out there. There are many occasions which exemplify this. There are too many for me to say in these few minutes I have, but I will tell you all the one that meant most to me."

"We became friends over quite the, well, incident. You see, this utterly rotten boy named Ronald Weasley," there was a collective chuckle from the crowd and she saw Ron grinning widely, "had just made fun of me because I could levitate a feather and he couldn't, but that's beside the point. I ran off to the bathroom like any other girl and cried my eyes out. Later that evening a troll was let into the school. Harry did not go to the common room, but instead told Ron that they should go and alert me. Harry jumped on a mountain troll's back that night to save me."

"You might be asking yourself now: 'Why did he do it?' Not just attack a troll, but everything that he did. Was it for fame or glory and all of that? It seems plausible, but I'm afraid it's simply not true. Harry Potter was good to his core. He just simply cared about people. He nearly drowned in the Triwizard Tournament making sure everybody was safe. He never rested until there was no threat."

"He didn't get a lot of rest. Voldemort was hunting him endlessly and unremittingly. There were difficult times for Harry; times where he didn't know if it was worth it. Then he would here about another massacre by the Death Eaters, and he knew then why he must push on and defeat this evil that was corrupting the society that took him away from his abusive family. You all from wizarding families don't understand what muggleborns go through. It's like being in a fairy tale. One day you receive a letter and then you're whisked off to learn magic in a castle. For Harry, it was an escape from the horrible life he had known and I wish to God every day that he hadn't been marked from birth to have the struggle that was his life in store for him."

"But Harry Potter faced it. He swallowed his fears, his worries, and his pain for this world he loved and for the people in it who loved him. Yes, Harry Potter was a true hero, and he didn't deserve the life he had. He was never corrupt and never bad. He cared and this was his fate. I ask that you always remember him as someone who didn't just die for your world, but as someone who fought his whole life for it, and when you call someone a hero, you think of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived for every one of you. Thank you."

My 'thank you' was barely articulated through the tears I was choking on. Ron embraced me as I sat down and I saw that he was crying too. I looked out at the crowd. They were all crying too.

It was time to say goodbye. I walked up to the casket behind Ginny, who could not contain the ceaseless sobs that escaped her. Ginny just managed to touch his gleaming white tomb before having to run from the sight of it.

I walked up to this tomb, this casket. It was so odd that he was lying in there. For a moment I had an insane thought that I could open it and out he would pop, grinning and telling them someone had made a mistake.

I shook the thought from my mind. I leaned down and placed a kiss on his tomb. The stone dampened with my fallen tears and I hoped somehow, wherever he was, he could feel them on his face. I whispered to him, so no one else could hear:

"Harry Potter, you are and will always be my hero."

**A/N: yes, so angsty, I know. But I just attended a funeral today and I felt that I needed to let some emotion out. Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please Please review.**


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